


The Right Pace

by prototyping



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Pre-BBS, Terra being an awkward nervous wreck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 13:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9493493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping
Summary: Where Terra still failed to see improvement, she adjusted. She knew when to speak, when to respect Ventus’ silence, when to offer a gentle touch of comfort and when to give him his space. The few times he looked Terra’s way, Aqua was there, answering some unspoken question or prompting Terra into the conversation (“Terra? You want to show Ventus what you’re working on?” “Terra, I think Ventus wants to watch you train.”) She was always there to mediate, to translate. She gave Ventus the voice he didn’t have.Terra + Ventus + Aqua. Pre-BBS.





	

After Ventus woke, Terra kept his distance. He only watched.

He watched the boy examine his surroundings every time he entered a room -- at times for a long, speechless minute, at others for only a couple seconds before he made some neutral sound and lost interest.

He watched Aqua lead him around, often by the hand, speaking slowly and quietly -- gently, Terra eventually realized -- as she pointed out this or explained that. But never too much at once. Never asking questions.

He watched Ventus’ odd behavior stretch on. Days turned into weeks, and then months, and never with a sign of recovery. He was still quiet, still emotionless.

He watched Aqua adjust to Ventus’ mannerisms as though their meanings were obvious. She recognized the small tilt of his head as a question, the drop of his eyes as uncertainty, his empty and lingering stare as silent interest. Where Terra still failed to see improvement, she adjusted. She knew when to speak, when to respect Ventus’ silence, when to offer a gentle touch of comfort and when to give him his space. The few times he looked Terra’s way, Aqua was there, answering some unspoken question or prompting Terra into the conversation (“Terra? You want to show Ventus what you’re working on?” “Terra, I think Ventus wants to watch you train.”) She was always there to mediate, to translate. She gave Ventus the voice he didn’t have.

Terra watched and couldn’t help feeling a little jealous -- but every impulse to follow her lead was crushed by that lingering, fearful sense of guilt that he still couldn’t shake.

“Why don’t you take him out today?” Aqua proposed one morning, earning a hard and uncertain stare. She pretended not to notice. “You can’t avoid him forever, you know.”

“I’m not... avoiding him,” Terra replied after a heavy pause. “I was just… gonna wait until he’s better.”

“He _is_ better,” she said patiently. “A lot better than before.”

“He is?”

They traded puzzled looks. “You didn’t notice?” she asked.

“Well… I guess he’s more aware. Of some things.”

“It’s not just that. He might not talk, but he communicates.” With an easy smile she stepped up beside him, lowering her voice a little. “I know it’s strange, Terra… and maybe a little hard. But you can’t keep thinking of him as that broken boy from before. The Master said Ventus’ heart has healed -- but it needs to grow, too.”

“I remember,” Terra mumbled. “That’s why we need to be there for him.” He cast her a sidelong look. “But you’re better at it,” he objected lamely. That made Aqua chuckle.

“Only because you haven’t tried. You’re not going to hurt him, Terra.”

“I already did once.”

“Hey--” She frowned and touched his shoulder, a gesture probably meant to make him look at her as much as reassure him. It succeeded in its first purpose. “As long as I’ve known you, you’ve never let a mistake get you down. I know why you’re nervous, but…” She smiled again, but it was more comfort than cheer.

“But what?” he prompted.

“But I trust you,” she said simply. “So does the Master. And so does Ventus.”

“Ventus?”

“He watches you a lot. I think he wants to approach you, but he doesn’t know how. He’s waiting for you to act first, Terra.” When he blinked at her, Aqua stepped back. “And that’s not something I can do for you.” It wasn’t a reprimand, but a statement. The sympathy in her voice made it sound as though she _would_ do it for him, if she could.

She left him alone with those thoughts.

That afternoon, Terra paid closer attention to Ventus. Watching him, he realized Aqua had spoken right: Ventus reacted more quickly to sights and sounds than he used to, and looked _at_ people rather than through them. He did more than walk and sit, eat and sleep -- he would touch or pick things up without prompting. He would run, sometimes, if Aqua took off ahead of him (never too quickly for him to follow). He would wander off a little ways without needing guidance. He would answer questions in tiny nods now, more rarely in light shakes of his head. More than once, Terra looked over and found Ventus watching him -- blankly, wordlessly, but with the kind of lingering consideration that suggested curiosity.

Small changes, but changes.

But Ventus still didn’t speak. And he still didn’t smile.

* * *

Ventus did like to watch them train. Besides being one of the few times when his attention wouldn’t wander after a couple minutes, he actually got into it as an observer. He would tense at a narrow parry, or lean anxiously towards whomever was faltering. A day after Aqua’s words of encouragement, Terra noticed all this for the first time -- and got an idea as the two of them dismissed their Keyblades in simultaneous flashes.

“Ventus.”

The boy stopped in his tracks -- as did Aqua, looking surprised enough for them both. Terra shoved his hesitation aside and offered an easy smile. As long as he didn’t talk too long or too fast, he should be fine, but these days Aqua dared to talk for a couple minutes straight and nothing bad had happened yet. “I noticed you watching us. Think you might want to give it a try?”

For several long, long seconds, Ventus only stared at him. It stretched on for what felt like half a minute and Terra started to fear that he’d asked a question too soon, or that the suggestion had been a bad one in the first place. Finally, Ventus broke eye contact to look at Aqua. She stepped up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. She was smiling brightly.

“What do you think, Ventus? Would you like to try it?”

He looked again at Terra with that same intense stare. Then he nodded slightly.

Terra let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Well, so far, so good.

There was no way he was letting the kid try to handle a real Keyblade, so instead he made a quick trip back up to the castle, moments later returning with a couple of the old wooden swords he and Aqua had used in younger years. Despite the scratches, these ones were still in pretty good shape. He’d also retrieved his personal favorite from his room, the much thicker and heavier Keyblade lookalike he’d crafted himself.

Ventus still stood unmoved beside Aqua, so Terra approached and knelt down, still with what he hoped was a casual expression. He turned one of the smaller swords over to offer it hilt-first.

Again Ventus paused, but not nearly as long as before. He reached out and took the prop, turning it over slowly and curiously. Terra caught Aqua’s eye as he stood up, but she had already retreated a few steps to the sidelines of the forecourt. This was his time; she wasn’t going to interfere.

Aiming to sound more confident than he felt, Terra took up the bigger sword and tossed the others aside. “All right, so the first thing to know is how to hold--” He stopped when he noticed Ventus had already adjusted his grip. He was holding the sword _back_ hand, the blade parallel with the same arm as it waited expectantly at his side.

Terra faltered. The positioning wasn’t wrong, or even all that strange; he’d seen Master Eraqus swap between forward and backward grips before. On the contrary, it was such a proper stance, and Ventus had assumed it so _quickly_ , that Terra began to have doubts about this idea. They weren’t supposed to say or do anything that might trigger any of Ventus’ old memories -- and as a Keyblade wielder, or a former one, maybe this was toeing a little too closely to that line…

“How to hold it,” Aqua spoke up, finishing the sentence for him. It snapped Terra out of his thoughts and he looked over. “I think Ventus has that part down,” she observed. “What’s next, Terra?”

“Uh--” He glanced at Ventus, and then back at her. Her eyebrows rose a fraction in question -- _Well? What comes next?_ \-- and he instantly knew she hadn’t missed the reason for his hesitation. She was too smart for that. She was telling him to continue, assuring him it would be okay. “...Right,” he said slowly, turning back to Ventus. “Well -- after that -- let’s look at your footwork.”

* * *

“What made you think to try that?”

It was sunset inside the castle. Terra and Aqua had just seen Ventus to the Master’s study, and now waved flames into the sconces lining the corridor’s walls as they retreated.

“What, sparring?” he asked. “I dunno. I just figured it’s something I’d’ve liked, if I was in his place.”

“Well, I think it was a great idea. He enjoyed it.” When he didn’t respond, Aqua cocked her head. “Terra?”

“Maybe. He never smiled, though.”

“...Mm.” She rubbed the side of her neck, frowning slightly. “I still haven’t seen him smile. Not even once.”

They were silent on the way back to their rooms.

* * *

Ventus’ heart and mind may have still been on the mend, but his body seemed to have suffered no lapse in memory. His reflexes were impressive, though still wanting, and he quickly proved that he didn’t always need to be coddled.

When he fell, he got right back up. Bruises and even blood didn’t bother him, and being one-upped by Terra every time only encouraged him to get back up and try again. They didn’t do anything too complicated, just basic drills in swings and parries, but even without words it was obvious Ventus loved it. It became a daily routine right along with Terra’s and Aqua’s afternoon sparring, and while they would occasionally trade off on who taught Ventus that day, more often than not Aqua would default the role to Terra.

It was fine by him. He was glad for it, even. Aqua already knew how to bond with Ventus in every other situation; this was the only time Terra was able to fully shake off that shadow of uncertainty, to relax and be himself around Ventus without worrying. After a few days that familiarity began to bleed into other times together. He joined Aqua’s one-sided conversations more and more, until he finally talked and joked as much as he had prior to Ventus’ arrival.

While never joining in, Ventus seemed to hang onto their every word regardless. There was no missing how utterly aware he was now. His face never reflected the thoughts going on behind it, his eyes still lacked that spark of conscious life, but his body language made up for it. Like Aqua, Terra learned to read him. He could sense Ventus’ anticipation when lunchtime -- and training -- drew close each day, his satisfaction when he received a compliment, his disappointment when he failed, his confusion when he didn’t get a joke.

By most accounts, Ventus was like anybody else. His feelings just got lost somewhere between his heart and his mouth.

* * *

“Giving up already? C’mon, Ven, I thought you were stronger than that.”

“Ven! You almost had him! Just try it again!”

“Hey, wait, you’re teaming up now?”

Despite their usual banter, they’d both picked up on something being _off_ today. Ven was as quick on his feet as ever, but he was slow in getting back on them after each tumble. His silence was heavier than usual, his responding nods and glances uncharacteristically hesitant.

Terra called for an early break. The three of them sat on the edge of the forecourt, looking out toward the mountain range -- two of them, anyway. Ven’s dark eyes remained down, absent and unseeing. His wooden sword lay across his lap in limp hands.

Terra had a feeling he knew what this was about. While Ven still threw himself wholeheartedly into training like always, there had been something different lately. His progress had stalled; he’d hit a wall, and the last few days had been the same lesson over and over. Terra hadn’t minded the repetition, but it seemed Ven did.

Glancing between the younger boy and his prop, Terra broke into a smile as he spoke up. “Ven. You see all those dents and nicks you got?”

Aqua leaned into Ven’s view. “Each one of those is proof you’re learning,” she piped up brightly. She, too, remembered the Master’s words of wisdom. Ven, however, looked unconvinced.

“You’re trying too hard to move your body,” Terra advised. He reached aside and picked up his wooden Keyblade, holding it aloft. “You need to learn to let your body move you. Right?” Ven followed his gaze, but remained impassive.

Climbing to his feet, Terra made a show of clearing his throat. He’d had this in mind for a while, a potential means of congratulations once Ven finally managed to outmaneuver him, but now the idea of using it as encouragement seemed just as sensible.

“In your hand, take this blade.  
And so long as you have the makings,  
then through this simple act of taking  
its wielder you shall one day be made.”

Aqua wrinkled her nose with a chuckle. “What’s that about? Who went and made _you_ Master?”

Terra grinned down at her. “Being a Keyblade Master is all I’ve dreamed about!” he countered.

She and Ven exchanged looks. “Well, you’re not the _only_ one,” she teased warmly.

“I know.” Terra knelt down, the Keyblade in both hands now. “You, me, and Ven... all share the same dream.” Fixing Ven with a smile, he held the prop out for him to take. He saw the boy react, the usual tensing of his skinny shoulders indicating surprise. Whether it was in response to the gesture or the statement, or both, Terra couldn’t say. He didn’t know if Keyblade Mastery had ever been of interest to Ven previously, or whether it would be after today. He could only figure that some part of Ven was still lost -- still searching, still uncertain of purpose -- and that perhaps, at the end of the day, he wanted to turn those dull eyes _forward_ every once in awhile, to the future that was probably as cloudy as his past.

Or Terra could have been overthinking things. But when Ven reached forward after a pause, fingers closing securely around the replica Keyblade’s shaft, Terra glanced up -- and almost didn’t recognize him behind the smile that had broken over his face.

It wasn’t just a look of joy, either. There was something… relieved there, too, maybe, alongside the sudden clarity in his bright blue gaze. For a moment Terra dared to hope that Ven might actually speak, as well, but the silence lingered alongside his smile.

With a quiet laugh that spoke for both of them, he ruffled Ven’s hair and watched that smile split into the brightest grin he’d ever seen.


End file.
